Heart of the Matter
by DianeB
Summary: After the events of S4's "Nothing Human," wherein an alien parasite attaches itself to B'Elanna, Chakotay visits B'Elanna after the parasite is removed. But what can he say that hasn't already been said? Even if he does come up with something, how might it help restore order to the ship?


Title:

Title: Heart of the Matter

Author:DianeB

E-Mail:

Pairing:C/T

Rating: PG-13

Summary:An episode addition to "Nothing Human." The volatile events of this episode serve to rekindle feelings Chakotay thought he had successfully set aside. On his way to B'Elanna's quarters after she's released from Sickbay, Chakotay recalls the events that led him to this point. What can he say to B'Elanna that hasn't already been said? And even if he does come up with something, how might it help restore order to _Voyager_?

A/N:The big question about this episode was: Why – if Crell Moset was a hologram – didn't the Doc just change his looks? The big answer: Because there wouldn't have been an episode otherwise, silly! (Besides, once Tabor got a look at the Cardassian, it was all over. The Doctor could have made Moset look like Humpty Dumpty and it wouldn't have made any difference.)

My usual undying gratitude goes to my Mighty Editor Goddess, Brenda S., for her extraordinary grammatical and plotline nitpicking, as well as for the title itself! Anyone who posts without a good beta/editor is just plain nuts.

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The ship was in an uproar, and it had happened in what seemed like an instant. Most of the Maquis crew, thanks to Tabor's impassioned speeches, had removed themselves from the Starfleet crew as effectively as if the past five years had never happened. Currently holed up in the mess hall, they were ready to hang Janeway and permanently relieve the Doctor of his holo-emitter.

On the other side of the issue, and the ship herself, were many of the Starfleet crew, now gathering in cargo bay two, showing support not only for the Doctor and what he had done, but also for Tom Paris, who had never left B'Elanna's side during the whole thing. Joe Carey fronted this group and – as unbelievable as it was to many, and possibly to Joe himself – was likely to be the one to throw the first punch if any Maquis were stupid enough to happen by.

In between – and staying safely in their quarters or at duty stations – were all the rest, Maquis and Starfleet alike, who didn't want to take either side, none of them quite realizing they had come to the same conclusion Janeway had: Both sides were right.

Now that the procedure was over and B'Elanna had been released to her quarters to rest, Chakotay had to talk to her before Tabor incited mutiny or Joe broke someone's nose, whichever came first. He knew B'Elanna wasn't allowing Tom near her, and he also knew the captain had gone to see her, but he wasn't sure how successful she'd been in convincing Torres that the right decision had been made. He figured it was his turn.

In the turbolift, Chakotay recalled how he'd spent the last few hours and absently wondered if things could turn out half as well with B'Elanna. He did not examine his motivations for visiting B'Elanna any closer than that.

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_First Officer or not, Chakotay was smart enough not to try speaking to the Starfleet crew in the cargo bay. He already knew, aside from the fact they all seemed to hate the Maquis anew, with him at the top of the list, none of those people even wanted to _consider s_topping the Doctor from saving B'Elanna. Well, neither did _he_, for that matter, but that had more to do with how he felt about B'Elanna than how he felt about the issue._

_No, Chakotay knew exactly where he needed to be._

_Arriving outside the mess hall, he was not comforted by the sounds coming from within. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into sensor range, and the doors slid open. He stepped forward, but no one even looked his way. Releasing the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, he looked around._

_Tabor was standing by the counter beside a bowl of fruit, viciously tossing an apple back and forth in his hands, loudly repeating what he had already told Chakotay and the Doctor about Crell Moset and what he had probably said a hundred times to those assembled. "He's a filthy spoon-head, a cold-blooded killer, an evil, evil man! He murdered my brother and exposed my grandfather to nadion radiation. An old man, to nadion radiation! It took him six days to die! Moset should not be allowed to continue, but Janeway's given the Doc the go-ahead! Even B'Elanna doesn't want him to continue! She'd rather die, all of you know that!"_

_Angry voices rose in support of Tabor but then immediately fell away, as if the group agreed, all right, but was losing steam. That was a hopeful sign, however minimal. Chakotay studied the room, naming people to himself as his gaze fell on them. Chell, Ayala, Gerron, Jor, Yosa, Henley, Doyle, Dalby. Not all of his former crew, but certainly enough they made a decent crowd, and others continued to walk in while he stood there. Chakotay was glad at this point they were only gathering and shouting, since he wasn't entirely sure he could stop them if they decided to take any physical action._

_It was not that Chakotay could blame Tabor for being so angry. The young Bajoran had witnessed horrible things being done to members of his own family – and even without the supporting evidence uncovered by Harry Kim and Seven-of-Nine, Chakotay believed Tabor. Spirits, it was one of the reasons for the existence of the Maquis in the first place._

_Chakotay suddenly felt bone-weary and wished he could simply side with the man, march to Sickbay, and demand that Moset and the entire database of information on his work be deleted and that B'Elanna's life be sacrificed._

_But he wasn't about to do that, no matter what he had said to Tom in the senior staff meeting. He could not let B'Elanna Torres die, no matter the method used or the ethics involved in saving her, no matter what she wanted, or what anyone else wanted, and that was that. Spirits, when he thought about it straight up like that, it gave him chills. Whenever B'Elanna's face entered his mind's eye, he knew he could not – _would not – _imagine a world without her. He thought about the hurt/comfort aspect of the current situation, figuring it was coloring his feelings, but he'd never been very good at denial. Truth was, he knew a perfectly good reason lay unadorned in his heart, a reason he had managed to keep at bay since his days as a Maquis captain._

_A reason that was becoming more _adorned _with each passing moment._

_Shaking off the thought, he stepped fully into the room and looked directly at Tabor. "Tabor!" He shouted, and those nearest him shut up immediately. Chakotay did not shout often._

_Tabor, talking with Chell and Henley, closed his mouth and looked over at him._

"_Stop it now. The decision's been made. The Doctor is going forward and using the Moset program. I agree with you, but I can also see Tom's point of view, and I understand why Janeway made the decision she did. I know it's hard, and it could even be wrong, but the decision's been made, and you have to let it go."_

_Tabor's nose ridges bunched in anger. "Prophets damn you, Chakotay, whose side are you--"_

"_No, Tabor," Chakotay cut him off sharply. "It's finished. If you keep dividing the crew, we're going to end up stranded in this God-forsaken quadrant forever, so think hard about the next thing you say. The Doctor believes this is B'Elanna's only chance, and we can't do without our Chief Engineer. End of story." He paused to drive his words home. "Do you hear me?"_

_By the look on his face, it was clear Tabor heard nothing of the sort, obviously willing to spend the rest of the journey in the brig. But this time, another voice stopped him._

"_Cole, no." Tal Celes, sitting in the far corner, spoke so softly that even those nearest her must have strained to hear her. Chakotay noticed that Celes was still in her Starfleet uniform, which looked distinctly out of place, but her communicator was missing. He guessed she must have come right from duty, and removing the communicator was the only way they'd let her in. She was Bajoran, after all. Celes continued. "My mother and sister caught Fostossa. My mother died, but my sister was given the vaccine that cured her."_

_Celes' statement was met with gasps of shock as the people in the room absorbed the information and realized what this must have meant to her. "Prophets save me, Tabor, you're right, Crell Moset is a monster, but he's a monster we need right now, and it's not doing us any good to fight with each other over it. Chakotay is right. We can't afford it out here." Celes stood slowly and looked around the room. "You guys are my friends, right? I'm Bajoran and I've been personally affected by Moset. But I'm not gonna choose sides over this. Besides, as Chakotay said, the decision's been made. All we have left to do is get past it and trust the Doctor. Okay?" She waited a beat and repeated Chakotay's words. "We can't live without our Chief Engineer." Another beat. "Okay?" There was no sound in the room except the low hum of food service appliances._

_Chakotay, again studying faces, wondered about the cosmic forces at work that would enable a young woman who carried such pain to quietly voice what could not be said in a thousand screaming matches. It looked like the war he thought he would have to wage in this room was not going to happen, and for that he silently thanked all the prophets, spirits, and unnamed cosmic forces in the universe and beyond._

_Tabor, looking thoroughly whipped, walked to a chair and fell hard into it, letting the apple he'd been punishing roll out of his hand and across the table, where it dropped with a dull thud to the floor. Head in his hands, he snorted loudly, raised his head as if to say something to Celes, and then let it fall back into his hands. The rest of the people in the room just looked deflated._

_Tal spoke again, nodding sharply to Chakotay. "Okay, then," she said, using an epitaph she'd probably learned from Paris, "Let's get the ef back to work." She strode purposely out the door, and a minute later, the room began to empty. Tabor would be left to battle his monsters alone, and Chakotay only hoped those Prophets of his would be able to help him._

And now, Chakotay had reached B'Elanna's door.

He rang the chime, half-expecting her not to answer, surprised when he heard "Come," from within, and the door slid open. He was greeted immediately by the pungent aroma of burning incense.

"Klingon demon-chaser?" He asked, pointing with his chin to the thin column of smoke rising from a small burner on the table in front of her chair.

She smirked at him. "Yeah. It's also supposed to have a mental relaxant in it, but I don't think that's working."

"Might be the sage. You should try lavender instead." She was wearing, he noticed, a Starfleet-issue tank top that revealed well-muscled arms, and he realized he did not often see her in it. He thought the communicator looked odd on the shirt and wondered why she was even wearing it. Her voice brought him back.

"Huh. Okay. I should have known you'd be better at identification than Janeway. All she cared about was that the damn thing didn't set off the environmental alarms. But actually," she said, tossing the padd she'd been holding to the table beside the incense, "it could also be these ridiculous word puzzles I got from Tom."

"Oh, so you've talked to Tom?"

She leaned back in the chair and looked up at him. "No, Chakotay, not since I've been home. I got the puzzles ages ago and figured what else have I got to do?" She gestured to the loveseat at right angle to her chair. "Take a load off, because I can tell by the Medicine Man look on your face that you aren't leaving anytime soon."

Her humor, though distinctly black, was nevertheless promising, even though the "Medicine Man" reference from their Maquis days gave his heart a jolt. "Thanks. Mind if I get some tea first?"

"Suit yourself." She waved absently toward the replicator and then obviously thought again. "Get me a raktajino, wouldya?"

When he returned and they had each taken a drink from respective mugs, he ventured a simple question. "So, how long ago was Janeway here?"

B'Elanna's face darkened. "About thirty minutes. And before you ask, she pretty much _ordered_ me to get over it and then righteously walked out, telling me she figured there were more demons to get rid of." She snorted in precise Klingon fashion and looked away, before swinging her dark head back to him. "God damn it, Chakotay!" Now she slammed the mug onto the table, sloshing the bitter brew over the rim, stood, and began pacing around, arms going everywhere. "You know, I'm laying there with that hideous creature sucking the life from me and I say, I _say_, to the Doctor, that I don't want the man working on me, that I'd rather die. And what does the Doctor do? He accuses me of prejudice and goes right on as if I hadn't said a word! Holy Gre'thor and great mounds of shit," she said, effectively, if not astutely, combining several languages' swearing, "how much clearer could I have been?" She stopped and glared at him, as if daring him to answer.

He took the dare, because he had no choice, not for the ship or for his now-pounding heart. "B'Elanna, you're the Chief Engineer. Losing you is unacceptable." He paused, going outside the moment again, worried she might be able to actually _hear_ the pounding, and added, just to be sure she didn't, "You absolutely know that, and so does the Doctor."

Her humanity displayed itself in a flawless open-mouthed gawk. She walked back to the chair and flopped into it, shaking her head. "Jeez, Chakotay, how do you two do that?"

Her non sequitur brought him back to himself and, thankfully, helped to slow his heart. "Er, huh?" He let go the rest of the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding – he'd been doing that a lot lately – and tried to string together a few words that made more sense. "How do 'us two' do what?"

"You and Janeway. Say the exact same thing when we know you haven't talked to each other. You do it all the time, since the damn beginning. I swear, Tom should start a pool." She leaned forward and looked him straight in the eye. "Listen, I'm still really pissed, you know? The whole thing was just _wrong _and the Doctor should have known better, creating a hologram of an effing _Cardassian butcher_, for god's sake. But the damn truth is, I know the Captain's right. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad to be alive. I mean, okay, I can _say_ I said I'd rather die than have that bastard Cardie work on me, but now that I'm not dead . . . Chakotay, what _the hell_ is wrong with you?"

Oh, such a damn clever girl. "Nothing. Nothing." He knew his denial was too swift, so he forged on to cover it. "I know the crew's going through hell because of Moset, and I am, too, but in the end, I'm just glad you're alive, whatever the means. And if it's any consolation, I'm sure the Doctor's not going to keep the Moset program or any of the files. I mean, I don't know that for certain, but I'm pretty sure." He sounded pathetic, even to his own ears.

And it was clear B'Elanna wasn't buying it, anyway. Leaning back in the chair again, she crossed her arms over her chest, and raised an eyebrow at him, looking, except for the forehead ridges, not unlike Seven. "Uh huh. And what else?"

He could feel his face grow warm and was suddenly hot all over. Did the room's temperature go up? He knew B'Elanna's quarters were always warmer than the average human's, but this seemed beyond that. He struggled to get a word out, wondering if she knew how he was feeling or if she was simply teasing him because she could see _something_ was up. Either way, he saw it might be confession time. How did they get to this point, anyway, he wondered. Weren't they talking about _her_ feelings? Didn't he have her anger to diffuse?

He sighed, shook his head. "B'Elanna, I, uh. . ."

And now she smiled outright, unfolded her arms, reached over and took one of his hands in both of hers, hands that were remarkably cool against his overheated skin. "Aw, Chakotay, you sweet man," she warbled, clearly in a teasing manner. "I think you like me."

And then he felt his face go not just warm, but blazing, and saw a spark of comprehension light her eyes. "B'Elanna, I, uh…." He was figuring he might as well say it again, make it three for three, when B'Elanna did something entirely unexpected. She drew up out of the chair, leaned toward him, and placed a cool, dry kiss on his lips. Breaking it, she whispered into his ear.

"Hey, Medicine Man, sure, I'm still angry, but I'm not fool enough to think I can remain angry for the duration of this trip, or even for the rest of the week." She returned to the chair, folding one leg up underneath her, and speaking as if she had not just kissed him. "Let's go talk to the Doctor, and if it's as you say, that he's deleted the program and the files, I'd be willing to chalk this up to one more heinous day in the DQ and be done with it. Then I can start talking the crew off the ledge and try to re-establish some semblance of order around here." She gave both chair arms a brisk pat and then pointed one finger at him. "As for _you_, well, I'd be willing to chalk you up to the same thing, but I don't think I want to." She smiled wickedly, and he was very glad her humanity afforded her no pointed teeth.

End.

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Final Note: Here's the Doctor's decision and last words with Moset:

Doc: "It is my judgment that the medical consultant program and all the algorithms contained therein shall be deleted from the database. In light of recent evidence, I cannot in good conscience utilize research that was derived from such inhuman practices."

Moset: "Where was your conscience when B'Elanna was dying on that table? Ethics? Morality? Conscience? Funny how they all go out the airlock when we need something. Are you and I really so different?"

Doc: "Computer, delete medical consultant program and all related files."

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\

"I had a bad feeling about that hologram. . ." -- Torres, channeling Han Solo.


End file.
